Yes, Lily, I’m very happy. I’m always happy when I’m with you.
Dada kiss! hug!
Every time you kiss someone, you hug them, and then eskimo kiss. You kiss, hug, and eskimo kiss nana. You kiss, hug, and eskimo kiss mommy. You kiss, hug, and eskimo kiss teddy, and your tea cups, and my RC helicopter.
You smile a lot. You know that you’re supposed to smile for pictures, but you don’t really know how to make that happen on command, so smiling for pictures is sort of a grimace. I think it’s beautiful, but I suspect in a few years you’ll think it’s silly.
I watch you count toys and name the letters of the alphabet and I start to understand why parents all get this far off look in their eye when they talk about how quickly the time goes. I bet that part gets worse with time. The parents of 7-year olds in my life seem to feel it more deeply, and the parents of 15-year olds even moreso.
I wonder, as I have before, and even before that, which of your current fascinations will persist. You love bugs bunny cartoons. You can recite Sahara Hare verbatim. So can we. You put HP sauce on your scrambled eggs. You sit on the potty with an android tablet on your lap and watch nyan cat reaction videos and the duck song. Your childhood will be very, very different from mine.
At night, you can’t go to sleep without one verse each of Rainbow Connection, Climb Up Sunshine Mountain, and Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star. In the last month, you’ve started to sing along.
And then I tell you it’s time for sleep. And you say,
Okay. Goodnight daddy, I love you.
And it gets me. every. time.
I love you too, Lily. Happy birthday.